


It Will Dry

by LieutenantCharlesLorem



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, UST, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28139079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantCharlesLorem/pseuds/LieutenantCharlesLorem
Summary: Midge runs into Lenny in Chicago, but doesn't seem very enthusiastic about seeing him. She goes into his room to get her suede coat out of the rain.
Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	It Will Dry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roga/gifts).



> This could take place on some small tour after season 3 where things seemed to have taken a step backwards for Midge because of recent events, but it could just as well take place anytime. As she says, what she's upset about doesn't really matter. I hope my yuletide person enjoys this even if it isn't exactly as shippy or actualizing of their relationship as it could have been.

Midge sat alone by the pool outside her hotel. She pulled her green suede coat tighter around her neck. She supposed the pool wasn’t terribly appealing in the creep of winter. 

Her mind must have been playing tricks on her. There he was again. It couldn’t be. It was as if fate kept bringing them together. Sure, they were both comics. They were bound to run into each other once in a while, but there was a limit of believability. What brought Lenny Bruce to the pool of this 3 star hotel in Chicago, just as it was starting to rain?

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he said solemnly, a shine in his eye.

“That the best you got?” Midge asked without even looking at him.

“I’m not following you if that’s what you’re thinkin.’”

“Oh, I’d never be so suspicious.”

“Maybe I just needed a cigarette,” he replied, pulling one out and lighting it. He took a drag and passed it to her.

She puffed, but not particularly deep. She handed it back.

“You gonna tell me whats’a matter?” asked Lenny, not unconscious of how Midge hadn’t looked him in the eye as of yet.

“What happened to small talk?” she replied.

“Life’s short. Let’s talk about you.”

“It doesn’t really matter.” Everything they said was almost a whisper.

“Doesn’t it?”

“No, the details aren’t the point.”

“Hm, this doesn’t sound like the snappy Midge I know.”

“Don’t have the energy to be funny today.”

“Not everything has to be funny. But I suppose if you like we could just sit in silence, basking in the glow of good company.”

“Hmm.”

“Or… I could leave you to your thoughts. I’d hate to intrude on the deep conversation you’re having with yourself.”

“My coat,” she said.

“You’re having a conversation with your coat?”

“No, I’m going to ruin my coat,” she replied as the chill drizzle could no longer be ignored.

“Oh, well by all means, let’s go inside. Wouldn’t want to ruin your fancy coat.”

She followed him, but didn’t comment about his jab or say anymore about the coat. 

Midge went into his motel room, this time without hesitation, because her door was a little further and she didn’t want to get any more wet.

Lenny helped her out of the coat and hung it gently over a chair. He brushed off the shoulders lightly and said, “It’ll dry, you’ll see. Only a drop here or there.”

When he turned away from the chair and lifted his head he saw that Midge had sprawled herself on his bed in a rather suggestive manner.

“My dear Mrs. Maisel, you’re liable to start a scandal.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m here,” she said quietly.

It’s not like Lenny had never slept with someone because they were sad, and all the more often it had been because he was sad, but there was something about Midge that always made him afraid to make the wrong move. Midge wasn’t a girl you were cheap with. 

“Why _are_ you here?” he asked.

“I just told you,” she said, putting one hand behind her head to draw more attention to her waistline.

“No, really, why are you here?-because that isn’t it.”

“Why are _you_ here?” she asked.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. What are you doing in Chicago?”

“I’m checking out a comedy club that just opened here. It looks like it’s going to be big.”

“That’s all?”

“Believe it or not, I have priorities other than you, Mrs. Maisel. I go where the money is.”

“Uhuh.”

He sat down at the edge of the bed. “But if I get to see a dear friend at the same time, such the better.”

“A dear friend?” she asked incredulously.

“The very _dearest_ ,” he replied in the unmistakable drawl of a New York Jew. 

“You look me in the eyes and call me your friend, Mr. Bruce.”

He did look at her, but ignored her request. “Drugs or lack of sleep?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” 

“Make up can only go so far and the lighting in here isn’t doing you any favors.”

“I should slug you,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, make no mistake, you could have the darkest circles and still be something close to perfect. But you still look like a zombie no matter how beautiful.”

“Well, maybe I didn’t sleep well last night…”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Maybe not at all. ...And maybe not the night before either.”

Lenny clicked his tongue against his teeth. “So irresponsible. Hasn’t anyone ever told you you need your beauty sleep?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Then pray tell, what kept you awake? Certainly not thinking of me…”

“Not exactly. Maybe thinking of things you’ve said… you were right. Comedy is a terrible job for terrible people, of which I am one.”

“I see.” 

Lenny showed no sign of saying more, so Midge asked, “Well?”

“Well what? If you want to call yourself names, I can’t stop you. If you’ve come looking for a pep talk, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not the kind of guy you come to to cheer you up. I’m the kind of guy who’s secretly always looking for one himself.”

“One what, a pep talk? I’d do it for you, I really would, but I’m afraid I’m fresh out of pep. I suppose I could check in the back. Nope, no pep there either. Sold out.”

“Perhaps I could get a call when you have pep back in stock?”

“Sir, I’m afraid pep’s been discontinued.”

“How can you run a proper establishment without pep?”

“Well, there are other ways to cheer up a man,” she said, eyelids hanging low.

The facetious quality left Lenny’s voice as he said, “I don’t know if you’re serious…” he stood up to pace, “or just really passionate about having one over on old Lenny Bruce here, but I’m gonna tell you this either way. I can’t do this today any more than you can give me that pep talk.

“And I know, you’re really the one that needs cheering up, but setting aside that you're obviously upset, and clearly tired, and that’s no time to take advantage of a lady -setting that aside, all I can keep thinking is… You know when you go to see a new comedian? Nothing's riding on it, for once you don’t over analyze the work, you just enjoy yourself, and you say, hey this ones kinda good. Yeah, I’m laughing, They’s got a few good ones. Maybe I like this comedian. 

“But if you’d gone to see that same comic under someone else’s suggestion... Someone who swore to you up and down that this comic was incredible, just the best, the funniest… watching the same act you end up thinking… well, this one’s mediocre. They’re nothing. I got out of bed for this?”

He had turned away from her, gesturing as he mused.

“And that’s the thing, Midge, maybe it’s just in my head, but it feels like, without even mentioning it, we’ve built this thing up. We’ve made it into this big looming thing, the waiting and the wondering increasing the anticipation. And you thinking I’m nothin'? Just an overrated waste of an evening? I don’t think I could take it.

“And at some point I might just build up the confidence to be mediocre in front of an audience whose opinion matters to me, but not today, -not to today Midge. Do you understand what I’m trying to say, because I-"

He turned back toward her, but he suddenly realized it didn’t matter if she had understood what he was trying to say. She had fallen asleep. 

He crept over, and lifted the blanket on the side of the bed she wasn’t laying and folded it over her. 

He sat down at the small round table motel rooms often have, careful not to upset the suede coat sitting on the back of his chair.

He got out a notebook and quietly worked on some material, feeling like doing such a thing for the first time in ages. Periodically he would look up at that angelic sleeping face. There was something comforting about the fact that she was comfortable enough around him to fall asleep. It was a memory they would laugh about later.


End file.
